My name is Candice Blain.
I am a single mom; staunch social justice advocate; and lover of girl power, all things pink, and minimalism. Today, I am an entrepreneur, proud Spelman college graduate, and practicing lawyer.
But, I didn’t start here.
When I was nineteen, a stranger followed me home and tried to rape me. He beat me so badly I would end up hospitalized for days.
To escape, I hurled myself through a closed window—shattering it with my body.
The journey from there to where I am today has not been easy. And, sadly, I know I am not alone . . .
In this country, 1 in 6 women‘s lives will be shattered by sexual violence.
For most, this will happen just as their lives are getting started. Many will never find their way back.
There is more to my story . . .
Going back to that fateful day when I was only a teenager, walking home from the train station, the story begins that I crossed paths with a woman. . .
I had never before seen her, I had never met her.
We exchanged a quick ‘hello’—and as I walked upstairs into my apartment, she went into hers.
Thirty minutes later, I was hanging out of a window, my blood dripping to the ground.
My attacker was trying to pull me back in over shattered glass—a butcher’s knife in his hand.
Through one eye which was almost swollen shut, I could see two men on the balcony next to me, hesitating . . . questioning whether to get involved.
The woman I had passed earlier heard my screams.
She ran out of her home—and from the ground below I heard her call up to me:
“I am coming for you, baby. Hold on. I am coming for you!”
My attacker let go and fled. He knew help was on the way.
As the woman sat with me awaiting the ambulance, she told me that her husband had been home with her.
They had heard footsteps and commotion coming from my upstairs apartment, and she had been telling him that something was not right..
He told her to sit down and stay out of it, and that nothing was wrong.
This woman saved my life.
We are each others’ strangers.
We have the power to save each other.
But it takes a choice.
A choice to reach out. A choice to get involved. A choice not to look the other way.
This year will make it 20 years since my assault.
This is my own journey. It is a blog about time,
fear,
beauty,
and the journey back from trauma . . . to beyond.
This blog is about the path forward.
To the countless girls whose skies were unfairly dimmed, please know this:
You can still soar.
~C.
Flight 